


David.

by ouroborosnakes



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Nude Modeling, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23399212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouroborosnakes/pseuds/ouroborosnakes
Summary: Hal Emmerich is a grad student without a job, working on creating a game as a passion project. As commissions become scarce, he enrolls in a nightly art class for some minimum socialization.
Relationships: Otacon/Solid Snake
Comments: 7
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry i keep getting fic ideas i promise i'll finish everything else i've started.

$120, flat rate. A generous tip of $10, but Hal knew his commissioner probably only did it to be polite, or for pity. Whatever it was, it paid his electricity bill for the month, with a little left to buy groceries. If it weren’t for the woman next door ‘accidentally’ making too much dinner on a regular basis, he probably would’ve been down to nothing but the marrow of his bones with a mop of hair. He was also a little overdue for a haircut, but it was long enough he could pull it back and not look like a slob. Maybe he’d have to start listing off figurines to sell for a little extra cash. Loan payments started chewing a hole through his wallet before he realized it, and even with the doctorate, Hal was working off of commissions from his one-bedroomed apartment and hopping around temp agencies while trying to ride off whatever his estranged family felt obligated to pitch in. When they managed to communicate, that is.

God, it was like college again. Counting change here, ‘borrowing’ money there. Writing papers for underclassmen for extra cash on the downlow, creating programs for other grad students who would otherwise never give him the time of day. Ramen and poptarts, Diet Coke and Arizona teas. It was no wonder his immune system was shit. Did he have anything warmer than a pullover and a scarf? Headphones weren't the same as earmuffs. 

Worse case scenario, he could sell nudes online. No, he wasn’t handsome enough to manage that. Maybe feet pics, with the help of a little photoshop. Now that he could _maybe_ pull off.

The thought makes him laugh, a small snort to himself on the subway with no other patrons. It was already a little past 7, and he still had a good 20 minutes until he got to the studio. He'd be a little late, sure. No big deal. He hasn't come to class in... A week. Two. Five? Since his last paycheck. When was that?

Through the windows, Hal could see the city pass as a blur. Snow smeared the windows, leaving trails of wet. Sniffling, Hal turned back in his seat and fiddled with his satchel. A sketchbook, a baggie of charcoals, pencils and erasers. An extra phone charger, some spare change for dinner. A metal water bottle with Gundam on it that he's had since he was 14. All of this had been gathering dust in the corner of his kitchen while he worked on a new program he'd been commissioned for. After sending the first beta, he was asked to correct something, which threw him off and set him back a couple days. It was when he was taking the trash out after it started overflowing that he remembered the class.

It was one of those spur-of-the-moment things that Hal wishes had changed his life for the better, but only in a very minute way. Every Thursday, a retired art teacher opened a studio class in the basement of a high school. Free, works off tips. There's some college students who came looking for a destresser, a few elders looking for something fun to pass the time; Hal's somewhere in between there, he guesses. Out of college with nothing to show for but a diploma or three. Whatever. If he can sit for free in a dimly lit studio with headphones on and draw for a couple hours once a week, that's all the socialization he needs.

Not that anyone talks to him. It's nice. Whenever he's stuck on a project he can go vent out his frustrations and eat donuts. Sometimes he sketches out character designs for the game he's working on, and once the teacher complimented him. It felt like years since he's been complimented and he got so embarrassed he didn't show up for a couple more weeks. A few times Hal has overheard other students talking about him, but once his headphones are on he's in his own bubble until he's satisfied, gives a nice tip and heads back home. The 45 minute subway ride was equally therapeutic and stressing, but the satisfaction of going outside was rewarding enough. Sometimes. 

Stepping off at his stop, Hal throws his hood over his head and starts trekking towards the high school. He didn't go to school here - after graduating, he was given an internship, which fell through and he never bothered moving away. Living in the suburbs had its pros and cons. Hal stops to buy a hot chocolate from a vendor, then dips into the back stairwell of the school and pulls open the fire escape door at the bottom. Immediately, a warm rush of air greets him, and he involuntarily exhales. All of the lights are on in the basement, and there's student artwork pinned along the walls. Brings back good and bad memories. High schoolers sure are creative.

The door is slightly ajar, which saves Hal the fear of pulling it open and making an unnecessary amount of noise. Hooking his heel around the door, he slowly pries it open further, trying to hold his bag and drink without jostling around too much. Once inside, he scans quickly to make sure no one saw him come in so late.

Sara's got her head tucked into a book in her seat. She's still working on her thesis.

Andrew's sipping a Redbull. Typical.

Mary Ann has her smock on. _World's Best Grandma_.

Joseph is drawing... Hal squints. A naked man? Hal's eyes graze from the easel to the--

_Oh my God._

By the time Hal's eyes register the nude model posing at the front of the room on a small stage, the model's eyes have already settled on Hal, and he _smiles_. _Oh my God._

Hal's first response is to back out of the room, his bag snagging on the door and pulling it shut with a slam once it's freed. 

Finding comfort on an uncomfortable bench just down the hall, Hal puts his headphones on and stares down at his sneakers. Trembling hands fidget with the cord, plugging and unplugging them from his phone. Inhale. Exhale. Plugs it in, shuffle, listen. Skip, skip, skip. Listen. Pause. Out of his peripheral he sees the formerly shut door start to open, as well as registering the sound of people talking - clapping, thanking their model. Grabbing his bag, Hal hugs it tight to his chest and dips into the nearest classroom, which was thankfully unlocked. 

Pressing his forehead against the cool of the wall, he lets his eyes close and takes several deep breaths. Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip. Lets the song finish before he opens his eyes again. Taking his headphones off, Hal listens for any other sound, and can hear Justine locking up her room, the distinct sound of her keyring full of trinkets following her down the empty hallway. After another moment, he cracks the door open and steps out. His drink still on the bench, he picks it up and it slips between his fingers, splashing on his shoes and the floor.

" _Fuck_ ," an angry hiss between grit teeth, Hal sets his belongings down, picking up the cup and carefully carrying it to the bathroom. Pitching it, he grabs for a handful of paper towels, dabbing at his jeans and sneakers before grabbing another handful to clean the spill. There are dirty shoe prints on the bathroom floor, Hal backtracking his way to try and lessen the mess, but--

"Woah!" Before he can register anything else, two firm hands are latched onto Hal's shoulders, steadying him at an angle. Blinking twice, he processes that he slipped and was caught by... _Who_?

"Are you okay?" With concern in his eyes and a face that is a little too close for Hal, the latter looks away and swallows. 

"Yeah. Yeah." The other sets Hal upright, his hands gripping paper towels into two sweaty messes. Casting his eyes upwards for a brief moment, Hal is greeted by a familiar looking smile, and a peep of skin. No, a lot of skin. A loosely draped bathrobe thrown together at the navel. 

“Uh,” he starts, then realizes he’s staring and adverts his eyes to his hands. _Why am I so sweaty?_

“Are you sure?” The man asks, pulling his robe closer around himself. Modest. Chiseled. Hairy.

“Yeah. Just spilled my cocoa.” 

“What a shame. You were in Justine’s class, right? I’m David.” Sticking his hand out for a handshake, Hal pretends not to see the robe slowly open a little and nods. “Oh, sorry, your hands are full,” he chuckles. “Do you need help cleaning up?”

“No,” swallowing dryly, Hal steps around David and speeds his way to his mess, hastily wiping it up and tossing his trash before grabbing his bag and making a run for it. 

* * *

Standing at the station with his arms wrapped tightly around him, Hal realizes quickly he _just_ missed the train and will be another 20 minutes or so until the next one. Looking at his phone and sighing, he departs from the platform in search of something to eat. A diner is the first thing to catch his eye, the warm smell of fries making his stomach rumble in response. Sitting himself down at a booth, he flips through the menu and chews on his bottom lip. 

A figure stands beside him, shadow looming.

"I'll have the 1/3 pound burger, no cheese or tomato but extra onion, medium-well, a--" a laugh cuts him off, Hal looking up to see _not_ a waitress, but a tall man in a turtleneck and jeans.

"Oh, no, sorry about that. Continue your order, sir." Sliding across the table from him, the man first grabs a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and slips one between his lips. "Do you mind?"

"I don't think you can smoke here," Hal says quietly, hand on his bag if he needs to leave. 

"Really? Damn. I just moved from out of state." Tucking the cigarette behind his ear, he crosses his arms across his chest and exhales through his nose. "I hope I didn't scare you." 

"... _David_?"

"Ah," he says, a smile on his lips, "sorry, I guess I should've reintroduced myself before sitting down." Sticking his hand out, Hal hesitantly shakes it this time, albeit with trembling hands - David either doesn't notice or pretends not to. "I guess you didn't recognize me dressed like this."

"Very, uh, modest."

"You could say that. I also hope you don't think I was following you or anything. Had a friend suggest this place and it's close to the station. I'm assuming that's what you're doing here as well, huh?" Nodding, Hal looks back down to his menu. "By the way, I don't think I caught your name."

"I'm Hal. Dr. Hal Emmerich," he corrects, still unfamiliar with the term. Across from him, David looks very surprised.

"A doctor, huh? Didn't know I had the pleasure speaking to someone so sophisticated." Despite his nerves, Hal can feel himself blushing, playing with a loose curl subconsciously. 

"It's not that big of a deal," he lies, shrugging one shoulder. 

"Good evening, gentlemen," a lanky guy no older than 22 greets them, notepad and pen in hand. "What can I get started for you?"

"I'll have a Coke," Dave says, looking at Hal.

"Uh, Dr. Pepper, please."

"Sorry, we don't have Dr. Pepper." Frowning slightly, Dave speaks up.

"Cherry Coke, then. It's close enough." Shooting the other an incredulous look, the waiter scribbles it down regardless. 

"Are you ready to order?"

"Yeah. We'll take two 1/3 burgers, one medium-well with no tomato or cheese but extra onion, and the other one medium-rare with everything." As the kid writes it down, Hal stares at Dave, who winks in response.

"Sides?"

"Fries. That sound good?"

"Yeah, fries are fine."

"Alrighty, that'll be out in a little bit and I'll come back with your drinks." Even as the kid leaves, Hal is still staring in surprise.

"What?" David asks, twirling the cigarette between his fingers. "I have a pretty good memory."

"Cherry Coke is _not_ the same as Dr. Pepper." To Hal's surprise, Dave bellows out a laugh.

" _That's_ what you're strung up about? Well, you have the doctorate, so you _must_ know more about that than I do." 

"Dr. Pepper and I were in the same graduating class, actually," Hal remarks, pushing up his glasses, trying to keep a straight face even when David can't. His laugh is contagious, the two of them subsiding their laughs when their drinks are brought to them. 

Raising his glass, David proposes a toast.

"To what?" 

"To making you laugh." With a blush he can't control, they clink their cups and drink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe....................
> 
> thank you for reading, comments appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm on a roll so here's a new chapter hehe. it's significantly longer.

“So you just moved here?” Hal inquires, adding a gracious amount of ketchup to his burger. 

“In a way, I guess. I’m currently staying with an old friend that I haven’t talked to in a while after some shit went down at home. Long story.” Nodding knowingly, Hal waits for David to take the first bite. He does, humoring Hal, before closing his eyes and exhaling almost sensually.

“Pretty good, right?”

“ _Definitely_. I really needed this. Thanks, Doc.” Occupying himself by taking a bite, a couple ketchup-covered onions slide from under the bun, to which Hal sighs. “Extra onions, huh? Hope you weren’t planning on kissing anyone tonight.” Taking a sip from his drink, Dave watches with soft eyes as Hal tries to avoid the gaze. 

“No, I wasn’t,” he says quietly, dragging a fry through the puddle of ketchup. 

“Hm. Living the bachelor life, are you?”

“Not… Not exactly. Too busy to go out.”

“Oh? Do you have a job?”

“Kind of. I guess you could say I’m a game designer.”

“Really? That’s interesting. Tell me about it.”

“Oh, no, you don’t want to hear it, it’ll bore you. It’s nowhere near finished, anyways.”

“I see. Well, I guess we could eat in silence or find a new topic to talk about.” Pondering, Hal stares at his plate in thoughtful silence. 

“How’s the food?” Stopping by with a tray full of dishes, their waiter offers a bright smile. “Do you need refills?”

“Yes, please.” 

“Okay, I’ll be right back with some new drinks.” 

“Did you think of something?” David asks, pulling off a tomato slice from his sandwich and biting into it. 

“Why’d you get into modelling?”

“Mm,” nodding and wiping his mouth with his napkin, David’s lips are pulled into a smile. “Frank went to high school here and told me about the art classes Justine teaches. Made a joke about nude modelling and I decided to try it, for fun. Got in contact, we set it up for something new. I’ve been there a couple weeks now. Do you not come regularly?”

“I haven’t been. Busy.”

“I see. Must’ve been pretty scary to walk in on that.”

“You can say that again,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “I was caught off guard and left. No offense or anything - it was just as you said, scary.” With a sheepish smile, Hal takes another bite of his dinner, Dave nodding along. 

“Trust me, it’s scary being on stage, too.” 

“Yeah, I could imagine.”

“You should try it sometime.” Looking up from behind his smudged glasses, Hal can see David is speaking in a very nonchalant tone, but his expression implies something else. “While it’s nerve-wracking, I think it really builds self esteem.”

“No one would want to see me naked,” Hal mumbles, downing the watery Coke in his glass. “ _I_ don’t like seeing myself naked.”

“But that doesn’t mean other people wouldn’t find you fascinating. Nude modelling isn’t about the level of attraction the artist feels towards the model.” Reaching his hand across the table, the tips of Dave’s index and middle finger lightly touch the veiny back of Hal’s hand. “If anything, I think people with your type of frame would be a better study than I am; just to get a new perspective on things. It’s all just anatomical practice in the end, and learning to draw different body types is important to learn.” A smile so warm Hal can feel it radiate, he clears his throat and retracts his hands when the waiter brings their drinks, sipping in silence. 

“Thank you, but I’ll still have to decline.”

“Even for private lessons?” With an embarrassed yelp, Hal covers his face in his hands and slides in his seat, bumping knees with David, who laughs, deep in his chest. “Sorry, sorry, that might’ve been too much.”

“I’m not used to being hit on, let alone by strangers I’ve already seen naked,” he mumbles into his palms. Peeking between his fingers, Dave has gone back to idly rolling the cigarette between his fingers before finally putting it back in the carton. 

“If it’s forceful, I’ll stop. I can assure you I don’t typically flirt with strangers who have seen me naked, either. That’s usually for the third date.” Snorting, Hal shoves his hands in his pockets and leans his head back to stare at the ceiling. 

“It’s… Nice, ’m just not good at it.” 

“There’s not really a right or wrong way to do things, just whatever feels comfortable. You aren’t uncomfortable, right?”

“No, not at all!” A pause, “oh my God, that sounded so eager. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it was cute,” he says with a laugh. 

Finishing off their meals in silence, Hal takes out his phone to check and time and frowns.

“What’s wrong?”

“I missed the train.” 

“They don’t run this late?”

“Not the ones I take, no.” Sighing, he rolls his shoulders back, plucks an ice cube from his glass and chews on it. “Hafta take a cab.”

"Where do you live? I'll see if I can split one with you." Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, Hal looks at Dave.

"No offense, but I don't really feel comfortable telling you where I live."

"Hal," he says with a laugh, the name rolling off his tongue like it's natural, "I was going to say you've _literally_ seen me naked, but I get it."

"It was very brief, you know. Even in your robe I was getting flustered."

“I’ve heard I tend to have that effect on people.” With a scoff, Hal double checks his belongings in his satchel. 

“Such a lady’s man, I see.”

“Never said anything about women,” Dave stands, cigarette tucked between his lips while he fishes out his wallet. Tossing a 20 on the table, he puts his hands in his pockets and straightens his posture. “You didn’t want dessert or anything, did you?”

“Oh.” Hal blinks, grabbing his bag and climbing out of the booth. “Uh, no. Thank you.” 

“Do you have a way to get home, then?” The flash of his lighter brightens the otherwise dark night, David taking a drag and blowing out smoke from his nose. 

“I’ll find a way.”

“So that’s a no?”

“No, I can call a cab.”

“Sure. Frank’s not off for another…” checking his watch, David frowns. “Two hours.” Exhaling, he idly taps ash onto the sidewalk. “I could either hit up the bars or go home and see if someone else can let me in… _Fuck_.” Rubbing at the back of his neck, he sees Hal staring at his feet out of his peripheral. “Oh, sorry. Just talking to myself. Don’t worry about me, I’ll get back one way or another.”

“You don’t have a key?”

“No, but we’ve got other people crashing right now. That’s just the kind of guy Frank is. I’m not sure if anyone else will be home right now.”

“Mm.”

“If anything, they’re all out drinking right now. Frank works at a bar and Thursdays are half-off shots. We were gonna meet at the station but I might just head over there and hang out with them.” Dropping the cigarette butt into the carton, Dave picks another up and offers it to Hal, who shakes his head.

“No, thank you. I don’t smoke.”

“Got it.” Sliding his lighter back into his pocket, he puts the cigarette behind his ear and exhales. “I shouldn’t keep you long, you must have some commute if trains aren’t running for you.” Nodding, Hal shifts the strap on his shoulder and sticks his hands in his pockets. 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you, then?” He asks, a hopeful lilt to his voice. 

“Sure. Come to class next week, maybe we’ll go out for drinks after.”

“I don’t drink, either.” Chuckling, Dave rakes his fingers through his hair. 

“You don’t have to _drink_ , you know. Maybe we’ll do something _you’d_ want, instead.”

“M-Maybe,” he stutters, feet carrying him before he says anything embarrassing. 

“Have a good night, Hal!” David calls after him, the sound of metal clicking shut, presumably having lit another cigarette.

“ _It’s a date_ ,” Hal’s lips form, walking half the block before turning around and not seeing David on the street. Must’ve turned the corner somewhere. Pulling out his wallet, he cringes when he sees the cash he has. It was nice of David to pay for dinner, and there must still be something in his bank account after his last commission. Maybe he will have to sell foot pics.

Checking his bank account and hastily downloading Uber, Hal mulls over his evening in his head. He got hit on by a very attractive nude male model after making a fool of himself like the hermit he is. Rubbing his hands down his face, he groans and tries to make out his ride as it pulls up and makes as little conversation as he can. Thankfully, the woman driving seems to sympathize and puts on a podcast about something she must’ve figured Hal would be interested in. 

* * *

6:27, Hal steps off the platform, a group of people following after, on their way out to their evening plans. The college graduate, however, headed for the diner, tucked away between a 7/11 and a Walgreens. 

“Welcome!” A voice chirps as soon as he’s opened the door. They’re busy, but a waitress just happened to be walking by. “Gimme one sec.”

“Take your time.” He picks up a menu to pretend to be occupied, though he keeps running over last week’s meal in his mind. _Was it medium-rare or just rare? Who eats burgers rare? The milkshakes looked good. Would he want a milkshake?_

“How many?” A different girl asks, Hal momentarily blanking.

“Uh. To-go?”

“Sure, but it’ll be a few. What can I getcha?” 

“Two 1/3 burgers, one medium… Medium-rare with everything and fries.” She nods, writing it down in abbreviations. “The other one medium-well, no cheese or tomato, with fries. And for drinks, uh… Two Cokes.” 

“Will that be all?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll have your total in a second. What’s a name for the order?”

“Hal.”

“Okay, Hal, that’ll be 14.12,” having worked briefly in customer service, he knows how annoying it is when customers rummage for the exact change, so he doesn’t bother mentioning he probably could dispose of 12 pennies but tips her and sits at the bar, idly sipping a glass of water. 

“And here you go, Hal,” an exhausted looking fry cook hands over a bag with two styrofoam trays inside and a cup holder with two drinks. Departing with a thankful nod and debating _how_ he was going to be able to carry all of this to the high school, he puts the bag of food inside his satchel the best he can and focuses on carrying the drinks while not making a mess of everything. He can do this. 

The brief walk seems so much longer, knowing, _hoping_ he can see David and eat with him, provided that he hasn't eaten already. He seems like he'd be too nice to decline and that thought makes Hal smile and walk a little faster. 

“David!” Hal calls, trying to balance all of his belongings. While the other was facing away, he couldn’t imagine very many other well-built men hanging around the fire escape, smoking cigarettes in a bathrobe. Turning around while tapping the ash off, Dave’s eyes widen in surprise, snubbing out the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and slipping it between his fingers, striding to meet Hal and take the drinks from his unstable arms.

“Hey,” he greets, then self consciously tucks his chin towards his shoulder. “Sorry.”

“For what? I don’t mind, I just don’t smoke myself.” Nodding, visibly more relaxed, he holds the door open for Hal and the two shuffle inside, sitting down on a hallway in the bench around the bend from the classroom. 

“I didn’t know if you’d be hungry…” sentence dropping off, he opens up the containers and passes off the one that has cheese.

“Starving. This is just what I needed.” Pulling apart his own sandwich, Hal’s shoulders slump a little bit. “What’s up? No extra onions?”

“No, they put tomatoes on it and _no_ onions.” 

“Hm.” Leaning across Hal’s lap, David picks the tomato from the open-faced burger and tosses it onto his tray. “Do you want my onions?” He offers, to which Hal laughs.

“I’ll pass. Thank you, David.”

“‘Course.” Eating in silence, they listen to everyone arriving from down the hall, and the closer it gets to 7pm, the more antsy Hal gets.

“What’s wrong?” Dave whispers, turning inward a little, knees brushing Hal’s. Neither pulls away.

“I don’t know how to explain it…” he begins, scratching idly at his beard. God, he needed to shave. “It feels, uh, weird.”

“How so?”

“Just thinking I’m here, eating burgers with you, and in another 15 or so minutes you’re going to be standing naked in front of the entire room.” Trying to stifle a laugh, Dave snorts, then covers his face with one hand and pats Hal’s shoulder with the other.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing _at_ you. Just thought it was funny you cared about something like that.” 

“Is that weird?”

“No, it’s--” he stops himself, his hand on Hal’s sweater twitching for a moment. “It’s cute.”

“So it _was_ weird.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Taking in a deep breath, David wipes his mouth with a crumpled napkin and brushes off any crumbs from his lap. “If you really think it’ll be awkward, you don’t have to sit in. Or,” retying his robe while trying to not flash the other, David turns towards Hal with his arms crossed. “Or, if you want to sit in, I would suggest sitting towards the back.”

“Why?” 

“Because,” laughing under his breath, David taps the top of Hal’s head lightly with his knuckles, “if you sit up front, these students might get a new lesson in anatomy I really don’t think Justine would appreciate.” When Hal sits on the bench and opens and closes his mouth for a moment, Dave wholly laughs and says “you’re a doctor, I think you can understand what that means,” then turns on his heel and starts for the classroom.

Hal, suddenly unable to think and purely moving on muscle memory, throws away their belongings, makes sure he has all of his supplies and allows his feet to carry him to the room.

Listening to David’s advice, he sits relatively far in the classroom and puts his headphones on in an attempt to get across that he is not in the mood for socializing. Not that many other peers talked to him much to begin with - he was a fly on the wall and remembered a lot about the others, whereas he was sure they didn’t remember much about him. Justine, being as good at heart as she is, would check in on Hal every so often in a motherly type of way, which he could manage. She was one of the best people he had known at reading the mood, and even when she gave him a small wave to show she was glad he was back, she didn’t go talk to him about the lessons he’d missed. 

No, rather, she was on the small platform of a stage they’d set up, talking with David, who reclined very casually on a bar stool in his robe. Sara was standing amongst them, perhaps showing off her depiction of David, who is smiling and nodding, laughing about something. Unintentionally watching with focus, he notices when Dave’s blue eyes glance away just long enough to show Hal he knew he was watching, then went back to talking with his small group. 

From where he sits, Hal begins to sketch the basic shape of the model’s face - his sharp jawline with high cheekbones, the beard, the hair that’s almost a little outdated but tidy enough to not necessarily come across that way.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees something pull up a chair near him, waiting patiently for him to notice. Taking off his headphones, he sees Jean with her hands wringing themselves awkwardly together.

“Hey, um, Dr. Emmerich?” He almost cringes at the formality of his name, but acknowledges her, anyways. She was in one of his first classes when he started grad school, and was the one who introduced him to the art class, though she dropped out briefly and their conversations were very scarce beyond that. Back when he was a student with a tolerance for conversation and not a semi-hermit. 

“What’s up? And you don’t have to call me that, you know.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I was wondering if you could review my… Review my project for Dr. Stultz? I heard you were one of his best students, and I was hoping to get your opinion. You don’t have to, of course, but, uh.” Tucking a piece of hair into her loosely made braids, she tries to make eye contact with him, despite how awkward it is. “I’ve been meaning to ask you but you haven’t been coming to class. I already know what I’m doing for my thesis project, but he still keeps that little robot you built in his room and I want to be on par with that.” 

“Ah. I… Could probably do that. My schedule’s been packed lately, but I could stop by the uni to see your progress.”

“Okay. Great!” She smiles, freckles beaming with blush. “Can we plan it after class?” Voice dropping to a whisper, Hal nods and she begins to stand. “Thank you, Dr. Emmerich.” Going back to her original seat, Hal turns and sees David has discarded the robe and was posing in a similar fashion to Michelangelo's David. If the initial shock of his raw handsomeness didn’t catch him off guard, he would’ve laughed about the irony of it, but instead he ducked his head and turned to a new page, scrambling for a better pencil to start sketching. 

Despite having some general idea of what David had looked like naked prior to this, he had never noticed all the scars that riddled his body, some Hal recognized as bullet wounds. A large, discolored scar on his thigh shows evidence of a skin graft, which he begins to wonder where and why. 

After a few moments of outlining Dave’s general frame, he looks back up to see David’s expression very stoic, as if a statue himself. At some point, Justine must’ve asked him to adjust his pose, because he was now facing more towards Hal’s direction, and for a moment they made eye contact. Dave looked away first, perhaps to save face. For some brief, perverse reason, the idea of David getting hard in front of the class because of _Hal_ excited him to no end, but Dave either was joking or had a very strong will, because that was not an issue, regardless of how often they accidentally made eye contact.

“About five more minutes,” Justine informed the class, David’s posture having faltered just slightly. It must be tiring, having to stand so still for so long.

Flipping through the pages of rough sketches he hadn’t finished, Hal found himself frustrated that he was unable to capture David’s beauty. He wasn’t a great artist to begin with; the class was something to pass the time and get away from his small apartment every so often, but the disappointment of feeling like he’s wasted both David and Justine’s time made him close his sketchbook and begin packing his things away.

“Everyone, let’s give David a round of applause.” Handing him the robe, everyone politely clapped and then began to pack. Sitting on the stool and cracking his neck, David took a hearty swig from a water bottle and shook the hands of people who came up to personally thank him. Joseph, who might’ve been high, was showing some of his sketches, David complimenting whereas Justine gave better feedback. 

Jean came back up to Hal - Dr. Emmerich - with a little notebook in hand, writing out her schedule and open times to practice her presentation. None of the times seemed ideal for him, but he picked the most reasonable one and exchanged emails with her, not comfortable giving away his phone number. 

“Great, thank you, Dr. Emmerich!” With a small, almost cutesy wave of her hand, she threw her backpack over her shoulder and headed out, leaving only Hal, David and Justine, who was cleaning up. When he wasn’t paying attention, Dave had already changed into much more casual clothes than last week. Leaning against the wall in a t-shirt, a jacket, distressed jeans and sneakers, he’s texting someone and… Waiting for Hal?

“Did I hear her calling you _Dr. Emmerich_?” Justine asks, carrying a pastel-stained smock with her to take home and clean, on her way to locking up. Nodding awkwardly, Hal looked over at David, who was quietly following behind. “You didn’t tell me you got your degree! You should’ve told me, I would’ve made a cake or something.”

“You don’t have to do that,” he huffed, which she waved away. 

“I would’ve delivered it to your apartment, I wouldn’t want to make such a scene in class. Congratulations, Hal, I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you, Justine. I appreciate it.”

“How’s your game coming along?”

“Little by little. My tablet quit on me, so I’ve been stagnant for a while, but it’s given me more time to research and add more. If your grandson needs more anime recs, I’m sure if I can think of something.”

“I’ll have to ask,” she says, cupping a cold hand around Hal’s cheek and patting it lightly before locking the door and twirling the keyring around her finger. “Keep up the good work.” Her words are quiet and followed by a wink, confusing him, until she turns and he can see Dave has a somewhat impatient look on his face, as if Hal was holding him up from his plans. 

“Hey,” David greets, voice a little gruffer than earlier. _Is_ he annoyed?

“Hey?”

“Do you have plans tonight?”

“Uh, not really. But I’d like to catch the train and _not_ take another uber.”

“I can drive you. Took the car today.” 

“Oh?” With a nod, Dave produces a key ring, as if needing to provide evidence. There’s a couple house keys, a car key with a remote and a keychain of a metal, gray fox. Hal shrugs and steps aside to let David lead the way.

“I’m assuming that’s a yes?”

“Oh, yeah. What are we doing?”

“Drinks.” Grinding his teeth together, Hal swallows his anxieties and follows, throwing his bag in the backseat with a bunch of other belongings, sitting in the front seat and trying to ignore the overwhelming smell of cigarettes.

“Don’t feel obligated to drink or anything, by the way. I promised the guys I’d stop by and figured I’d take you on that date before I forgot.” Rolling down the window and lighting a cigarette, they sit in the quiet car for a moment. “Not that I’d forget.”

“I see.” 

“By the way, Hal.” Keeping the smoke outside of the window, David partially turns to look at Hal, who shys away. “If I ever come across as strong or anything, let me know and I’ll cut it out.”

“Okay. I don’t think you are.”

“Sometimes you just seem unsure about things, so I wanted to make sure.” Pulling a drag and exhaling slowly, Dave turns the keys in the ignition. “It can just be for fun, if you want. I won’t put you in anything you don’t want.” 

The idea of _dating_ David becomes too much at once, Hal instead pulling out his phone and pretending to check his email, though there’s nothing new. They let the conversation end at that, the ride silent until Dave turns on the radio and begins flipping through channels as they sit at too many red lights. 

“And here we go,” he says, killing the engine and sitting back, waiting for Hal to say anything. “Don’t tell me you want to back out now or anything.”

“No, but you make it seem as if all of your friends are hardened criminals or something.”

“Well,” David says in a voice that is definitely not reassuring. “Something like that. It’s relative. Don’t worry too much, I’ll be there.” With a small smile, Dave opens his door and tosses his jacket into the back seat, double checking for his wallet while Hal climbs out of his seat. Locking the car and standing next to Hal while they wait for traffic to slow so they can cross the street, David makes a spur of the moment decision and ruffles Hal’s hair, who makes a noise of protest but has a warm grin, regardless.

“There’s that smile,” he purrs with a smirk. “I knew you had it in you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> but also classes are starting to get busy again so postings might be scarce. thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Very eloquent glass doors were no match for the rest of the interior, Hal quickly noticed. Following Dave inside, he immediately turned and started up a dimly-lit stairwell around the corner, checking over his shoulder a couple to make sure Hal was following, as if worried he would’ve chickened out and left. 

Once at the landing, Hal immediately notices the _smell_. He’s not unfamiliar with smokers or drinkers, and it had been a while since he’d been to a bar but the testosterone that seemed to secrete from within the walls made his nose scrunch up. David, seemingly unperturbed by it, holds a door open and ushers Hal inside, a hand on his back. Loud yet muffled music comes from somewhere Hal can’t detect, lights dimmed with neon assets.

“Hey, Davey!” Someone calls, David yelling something back. 

“Are you thirsty? Take a seat, I’m gonna say hi.”

“Uh,” pulling at his sweater, Hal completely blanks. “A cosmo would be nice.” Blinking, Dave stopped and turned fully to Hal, leaning forward a little to be at the same height. 

“Are you sure? You don’t need to drink if you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t really mind. Preferably I’m into wine, but that might seem lame.”

“And a cosmopolitan isn’t?” Dave teases, a smirk on his face.

“Just because it’s fruity doesn’t mean it’s not _good_.” Laughing, he pats Hal’s shoulder and departs, leaving Hal to climb into a seat. While it’s noisy, it isn’t fairly occupied - enough he could sit without having to squeeze between others. 

It feels like ages before David gets back, handing Hal his drink and sipping cautiously from a tumbler.

“Were you planning on driving home?” Voice quiet, Hal’s face expresses concern. Setting the glass down, ice clinking surprisingly loud, David exhales through his nose, almost as if Hal’s question was insulting. Perhaps it was.

“No, you’re right. Frank said it was on the house and I didn’t want to turn him down. Sorry.” It’s almost noticeable how the mood seemed to drop, Hal instead sipping from his drink and humming in the back of his throat.

“It’s good.”

“Glad to hear.” Smiling, David seats himself and props an elbow on the bar, putting his chin in his hand and studies Hal. “So, uh… Come here often?” Despite the corniness, Hal laughs, rolling his eyes nonetheless.

“Only if you’re here,” he says, lips pressed tightly against the glass as he takes another sip. 

“Mm. Guess it’s not good to encourage this behavior, huh?” Dave says, suddenly sullen. Rubbing at the bridge of his nose, he closes his eyes and sucks in a breath. “Listen, Hal, I don’t want to… Ruin anything, I guess. You and I don’t know a lot about each other yet and I’m starting to feel like a bar wasn’t the best place for socializing. You seem like a good guy and some of our interests may clash.” Nodding, Hal makes a soft ‘uh-huh’ while listening to the other. “Not saying that because I’m an alcoholic or anything, but _this_ is my crowd. Hope it doesn’t scare you off or anything.”

“The only way to get the alcohol out of your system is time,” Hal informs. Not quite following, he clears his throat and breaks their eye contact. “So we can get to know each other now, since we’ve got time to kill.”

“I see,” the other says, picking up his glass and downing the whisky in one fluid, graceful shot. “I guess we do.” 

“How’d you meet these guys?”

“Service. At the time, Frank and I would butt heads frequently, but after some time we became friends. Tough love.” 

“Are a lot of these guys from the service?”

“More or less. Frank has his own crowd that I integrated into, but as the newbie I get the short end of the stick. Fox is usually there to watch my back but he also is the one who starts shit.” With a chuckle, he continues, “I swear, he’s still like a kid sometimes. Better than what we could be, I suppose.”

“Hm. Is that where you got a lot of your scars from?”

“Yes. A lot of the art students showed me their work, but only a couple included _some_ scars. Maybe they didn’t want something as gross as that, but they had no shame drawing everything else.”

“I don’t believe that’s true. The scars tell a story, whether or not you tell it. Like words on a page, almost.”

“That’s a very poetic way to put it. Thanks, doc. Do you want another drink? Refill? Water?” Moving to get up, Hal realizes he’d finished off his drink.

“Another wouldn’t hurt. Water would also be nice.”

“Sure thing.” As he leaves, Hal notices a tear in the upper inside of his thigh, curiosity starting to gnaw at him. Only bringing back two waters, Hal hesitantly takes a sip as David explains without the question being asked.

“Frank’s gonna bring it. It was busy and I didn’t want to leave you hanging.” 

“I feel like I should tell you something,” Hal says, setting the glass down. “Do not make fun of me for it.”

“Shoot.”

“Drinking makes me have to pee like _crazy_.” Barking out a laugh, David nods knowingly and points down the hallway. 

“Right down there, and don’t worry about it. If you’re lucky, you’ll just miss Frank.” 

Looking at himself in the mirror, he curses under his breath.

“Don’t embarrass yourself, Hal. You’ll be okay.” Despite that, he knew he would be making frequent trips. Perhaps it was inexperience, but this was an issue he always had that made him cut down on his already irregular splurges. Whatever. 

Washing his hands and stepping back into the hall, there’s a figure leaning against the bar, back towards Hal, conversing with Dave. The man playfully throws a punch at Dave’s shoulder, headband tied around his head bobbing at the motion, then walks away.

“Was that Frank?” He asks, climbing back into his seat.

“Yeah. Gave me shit for taking the car.” With a small shrug, he sips his drink, another empty one having joined the other. Deciding not to comment, he drinks from the fruity concoction and ponders about other conversations to pass time.

“So you _do_ come often,” David teases, crossing his legs. 

“You’re here, aren’t you? Told you I’d come back.”

“And so you did. So, tell me… What’s your name, kiddo?”

“I’ll have you know I have a PhD.”

“Doctor Kiddo.” Snorting, Hal changes the topic.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you get all those scars?”

“Aren't some stories best untold? Besides, they aren’t very interesting. Just time on the battlefield.”

“I guess. You’ve got one on your hand that looks older than that, though.” Holding his hand out to check, Hal takes it in his own and turns it over, tracing a white line across the palm of his hand, noticing how rough his skin is. “Something from your childhood?”

“Yeah. My brother and I were fighting and he had a knife.” A horrified expression fell across his face, Dave immediately going to explain, “I was trying to take his pocket knife from him and it slipped. We weren’t _that_ rough. He got the grounding of a lifetime over it though.”

“Deserved it.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s another one around your knuckle,” the graduate observes. “Where’s this from?”

“A dog bit me. I don’t remember it well ‘cause I was young, but that’s what I’ve been told.”

“I see.”

“There’s another one on my palm.”

“Oh? Where?” Turning his hand back over, Dave mutters something gently under his breath.

“Let me show you,” he says, moving it to cup Hal’s cheek and lean in. “Can you see it?” 

Breath hot with alcohol, Hal shudders. “Yeah. I-I mean, I think I need a closer look.”

“Is that so?” Leaning in, David pressed their lips together, keeping his eyes half-lidded to gauge Hal’s expression. Not seeming opposed, he presses a little more, putting his free hand on Hal’s thigh, who moans, low in his chest. It’s almost akin to a purr, making David smile, lips curling up.

“I don’t mean to ruin the mood,” Hal murmurs, keeping his eyes closed, “but you taste terrible.”

“My bad,” he chuckles. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Very good. Warm.” Sitting back to give Hal space, the younger clears his throat and sips his water. Facing forward, he stares at the shelves of alcohol, accented with the dark wood and brick decor, collecting his thoughts.

“What’s your doctorate in?” David leads, tracing the rim of his glass with a fingertip.

“Huh?”

“We’ve talked plenty about me. Tell me about yourself.”

“Oh. Uh, engineering. My thesis was a robot to help assist the elderly.”

“Hm. Not planning on taking away any jobs, are you?”

“God, no. That’s not my intention. It’s main purpose was to be timed to dispose and deliver medicine, as well as water, provided everything was stocked.”

“How does it work?”

“Uh, well... Let me see. You would have to program it for the designated times, as well as the proper dosages. It was able to maneuver around and had a cooler in it with the mini water bottles to provide a drink. There would also be an alarm to one’s choosing, so if they forgot it could remind them.”

“And if I’m not home or in an inconvenient situation?”

“It would wait for you outside your most recent spot, so the bathroom door or exterior doors of the residency. I’m sure if it was tweaked enough it would be used for other intentions, but the compartments are small enough that I couldn’t imagine anything _besides_ a pill fitting.” 

“Sounds pretty cool. A very handy contraption.”

“Yeah. A moving, talking pez dispenser for medicine.” Sharing a laugh, they both sip waters in unison.

“Can I ask another question?” Turning sideways, Hal bumps knees with David. Nodding with a quirked eyebrow, he watches as Hal very cautiously reaches forward, resting his hand on David’s thigh and rubbing his thumb in small circles.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding a little unsure.

“How’d you get this?” Poking his thumb through the tear in the fabric, Dave all but jumps out of his skin at the contact. 

“That’s from moving my stuff out from home. Squatted and ripped ‘em. Been too lazy to sew it up.”

“Mm.” Mindlessly stroking the area of David’s thigh, Hal can see out of his peripheral Dave’s hands twitching on the counter, but he doesn’t stop him. The younger knows he’s dangerously close to the strain in his jeans, but knows better than to pull a stupid stunt like that.

Abruptly, a high pitched whistle rips through the room, Hal pulling his hand back as David whips around to look.

“Attention!” With one foot propped up on the counter, Frank has stripped from his previous collared shirt down to a sleeveless top with a design on the front Hal can’t make out. “Shots are now half off!” Another bartender rings a bell and a majority of the room, Dave included, howls, as if it was an unspoken rule.

Turning back around, he has a somewhat shy grin on his face. Apologetic. “Sorry. That’s just a thing.”

“Figured. Does this start at a specific time?”

“Usually, but sometimes Frank pulls it early or later, depending on how busy the night is.” Checking his phone out of habit, Hal looks up at Dave with a curious glint in his eye.

“How are you feeling?”

“Little buzzed, I guess. Nothing terrible.”

“Not safe enough to drive?”

“Legally? Probably not. Wouldn't recommend it. Why, how are you feeling?”

“Wouldn’t really say _buzzed_ , but also not really up to driving.”

“Did you want to leave? I could call a cab and give Frank back his keys.”

“No, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you anymore than I already have.” Leaning in with one hand on Hal’s shoulder, he leans in to whisper.

“Whaddya say we get out of here?” Punctuating his proposition by teasing his bottom lip against Hal’s earlobe, the latter stifled a moan with a cough and nodded, trying not to seem too eager. “Finish up your water, I’ll be right back.” Giving Hal’s knee a squeeze, David slips away, going to talk to Frank, and as Hal starts to gather himself he can hear a howl. Not like the one from before, but it’s cut short and followed by a bunch of laughter, David emerging from the crowd with an almost flustered face.

“What’s up?” Hal asks, Dave grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the stairs. 

“Guys were dicking around,” stopping a few steps down, David pulls his phone out. “You should go to the bathroom again, I’ll grab an Uber.”

“Okay, sure.” Splashing his face with cold water, Hal sighs. Walking down the short hallway, he feels like he’s being watched, and when he looks up he can see who he assumes is Frank, down at their end of the bar, collecting their empty glasses and giving him a wolfish grin. Averting his gaze and starting down the stairs, hand gripping the railing tightly, he can see David is outside, smoking a cigarette. 

“I still don’t know your address, so I used my own.” Tapping the ash away, Dave checks his phone again. “I can change it, of course. I was gonna invite you over ‘til you sobered up enough I knew you’d make it home safe.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks.”

“No prob.” Pitching the cigarette into a bush, David triple checks as a sedan pulls up to them. 

“Frank?” The man asks, window rolled down, some nondescript pop song playing. 

“Yeah.” Holding the door open, Hal slides in, looking over his shoulder to where they had parked, his satchel in the back seat. Dismissing the thought, he puts on his seatbelt and shoves his hands in his pockets, listening to Dave talk idly with the driver.

* * *

Squeezing eyes shut, Hal tries to drown out the sound of a phone alarm going off. It’s too early to be awake, but the alarm continues. With a huff, he rolls over and grabs his phone to turn it off, but his hand makes contact with flesh, to which he gasps and retracts his hand. On the opposing end of a slap, David groans, sitting up and turning his phone off. Looking over, Hal is scrambling for his glasses.

“Ow.”

“ _David_?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s my bed?” Inching back under the covers, he turns towards Hal and props his head into his palm. “I got cold on the sofa and came in here. Sorry.”

“Your bed?”

“Are we going to play 20 questions, or do you not remember?” With a blank stare, David sighs and sits back up. “You and I got burgers before class yesterday, right? Then we went to the bar to hang out. Called an Uber, went back to Frank’s place. I was going to get you an Uber home but you crashed almost immediately on the sofa.” Nodding, Hal looks down at his hands. “Put you to bed, I stayed up for a while, then about three hours ago I got cold. Still cold.”

“You could’ve put a shirt on.”

“Then I get sweaty,” Dave hums, popping his neck. “Are you hungry?”

“We, uh… There was no funny business, was there?”

“You snoring was kind of funny, but no, of course not. You kicked off your jeans in your sleep, I guess.” Peeking under the blanket, Hal confirms he’s just in his briefs, which are embarrassingly tight. _Oh_. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Dave is shirtless, but wearing a pair of loose flannel pajama pants, low on his hips. Yawning, Hal brings his attention back over the blankets, where Dave has started to get up. “I can make breakfast, unless you want to get going.”

“What time is it?”

“A little past 10.”

“Okay.” Inhale, exhale. “Okay. Breakfast would be nice.”

“How are you feeling?” Standing and adjusting his pajamas, Dave picks up a discarded shirt from the floor and pulls it over his head. 

“Tired,” yawning, he waits until David leaves to throw his jeans back on, to save himself from shame. “But no hangover or anything.”

“Good, I’d hope not.”

“You?”

“Fine. What’re you hungry for?”

“Anything’s good.” 

“The bathroom is two doors down, by the way.” In the kitchen David starts rummaging through cupboards, Hal dressing and going to wash up. Looking at himself in the mirror, he suddenly wishes he could take a shower.

As if reading his mind, David raps his knuckles against the wood, Hal cracking it open.

“You can shower, if you want. I took one after you went to bed. I’ll lend you some clothes.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks, David.”

“But don’t take too long, breakfast will be done soon.” With a smile that almost shines, David closes the door behind him, leaving Hal to give the bathroom a closer inspection. It is definitely obvious a group of guys live here, reminding him of when he was in college and shared an apartment with three other guys. Razors, shaving cream, tooth brushes, toothpaste and cologne litter the sink, but there’s a towel folded on a rack and shampoo in the shower. He can handle this.

Razors, shaving cream, tooth brushes, toothpaste and cologne litter the sink, but there’s a towel folded on a rack and shampoo in the shower. He can handle this. 

Waiting for the water to warm, Hal listens to David cracking eggs, whisking and the satisfying sizzle of a warm pan. One the temperature is adequate, he strips and sticks his head under the spout, exhaling loudly. The brands aren’t something he’d choose for himself, but he’s thankful he can at least freshen up, even if he will smell like a frat house. In the middle of pouring body wash into the palm of his hand, the bathroom door squeaks open, then the faucet runs and someone starts brushing their teeth. Trying to make out the figure, he can’t accurately decipher with the steam but he’s almost positive it’s _not_ David, waiting until the other leaves to finish his shower.

“Hey, Hal?” Dave’s voice cuts through, Hal turning the water off. “I’ve put some clothes for you on the sink. Hopefully they fit.” 

“Okay, thanks.” Drying off and stepping out, he puts on what are arguably _oversized_ clothes. A pullover, boxers (clean, after having given them an earnest whiff test), sweats and socks. The underwear fits fine, but he has to cuff the sweats to not drag them. 

“Made scrambled eggs, bacon and toast,” voice coming from a different location, Hal takes a seat at the cleared space on the table, a plate having been set out. “Coffee will be ready in a sec.”

“Hey, Dave? Weird question.”

“What’s up?”

“Did you come brush your teeth while I was in the shower?”

Shuffling from the distance, David approached from a different part of the townhouse, smelling of smoke.

“No.” 

“Is there someone else here?”

“Shouldn’t be.” Opening a couple of the bedrooms, Dave sticks his head in and turns lights on, then off and closes the door. “Whoever it was, he must’ve just left.” 

“Where is everyone?”

“Out. It’s Friday, most of them are at work.”

“You don’t have a job?”

“Not yet. The modeling thing pays, but Frank’s trying to get me a job at the bar.” 

“Ah.”

“How’s breakfast?”

“Oh, good.” Jabbing at a piece of egg, Hal watches Dave pour them two cups of coffee, then carry over powdered creamer and sugar. 

Eating in silence, they make small talk, but before long plates are cleared and conversation has dwindled down.

“So,” Hal asks, taking off his glasses to wipe them off, “now what?”

“Well.” Collecting their plates and putting them in the sink, David crosses his arms and leans against the counter. “Everyone’s at work and Frank’s gone.”

“Oh?”

“Went to see his sister for the weekend. Real bitch, but that leaves us alone for quite some time.”

“Is that so?” With a small smile on his face, Hal crosses his legs and purses his lips. “What about it?”

“I could take you home,” he begins, counting off his fingers, “we could find something on TV and chill, or I could give you that private lesson I offered.” Snorting, Hal places his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and tries to match David’s playful expression.

“A private lesson, huh?”

“Would you like to accompany me to my studio?”

“Maybe I would.” Flicking off the kitchen light, Dave leads the way back to his bedroom, Hal following with light footsteps. 

Filled with the sunlight that peeks through the curtains, David locks the door and exhales, as if he’s been holding his breath for quite some time. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Hal anxiously tucks his feet beneath him and sheepishly turns his face away. 

“I, uh-- It’s been a while,” Hal admits, playing with his glasses. “If you know what I mean.”

“Well,” Dave says, taking the spectacles from Hal’s fumbling hands and setting them down on the bedside table, “luckily for us, everyone’s going to be out for some time. Plus,” stroking the back of his hand down Hal’s cheek, he drops his voice, “Frank has the only set of house keys. We’ve got plenty of time.” Letting a laugh that almost sounds like a giggle, Hal lets himself be pushed onto his back, David then crawls on his hands and knees over his frame. 

“Are you okay?” David asks, stalling for an answer while Hal rolls his eyes and exhales through his nose.

“Just kiss me, will you?” Wrapping his arms around the back of Dave's neck, Hal pulls him down and closes his eyes, David's stubble catching his own as his eyelashes fan against his cheek, an image Hal could never recreate on paper but has the privilege of observing in the privacy of the model's bedroom, tasting his cigarette and straight, black coffee off his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! this was very fun to write. i've been really on a roll with writing recently and it's very satisfying to have finished something, even if i'm kind of burnt out now, lol. sorry if the ending is kind of abrupt and i made up the robot, i don't know if that's an actual thing but it'd be pretty cool if so.


End file.
